


The Sins of the Father

by 16woodsequ



Series: Steve Rogers Has PTSD [3]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Howard Stark Is a Dick, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Omega Steve Rogers, Past Rape/Non-con, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 11:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21475459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/16woodsequ/pseuds/16woodsequ
Summary: Tony has grown up knowing that Steve Rogers is the peak of all Alpha superiority, and he can't help resenting him a little for that. So, when the legend himself is defrosted and seems to dislike Tony just as much, he isn't surprised.He IS surprised when a few weeks later it comes out that Rogers isn't an Alpha at all. He's an Omega, and he has a very good reason for being wary around Tony.
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Howard Stark
Series: Steve Rogers Has PTSD [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124492
Comments: 35
Kudos: 502





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please be warned that this story heavily discusses sexual abuse and blackmail, mostly beginning in the second chapter. The actual assault is not described.

Anyone who knew Tony would say that he was hard to get along with sometimes. Heck, he’d admit it himself if you asked him, and probably list off several other less desirable traits that he possessed, just to round out the number.

But that didn’t mean that he didn’t try. He’s not sure if it’s due to his Alpha status or if he’s just naturally inclined to attach himself to anyone who spends long enough in close enough proximity to him, but once he finds someone who shows him anything close to acceptance, he’s liable to mentally adopt them into his pack.

Sometimes, it comes back around to bite him, like with Obie. Other times, he manages to attach himself to people like Pepper, or Rhodey, people who he can’t quite believe are actually content to spent time around him, let alone be his friend. Because, he knows he can be hard to get along with, he knows he grates on the nerves of most people around him, and, generally, that isn’t something that bothers him too much. He has his pack, such that it is, and he can be happy with that.

That is, until Fury decides to interfere in his life and shove him into a group of barely-held-together-super-heroes and expects him to somehow save the world. It doesn’t help that Natasha is the only Beta in the group, leaving the rest of the Alphas to try to figure out how to navigate each other in less than 24 hours. To be fair, they had, but not before they’d managed to bare their teeth and do everything but bite each other’s heads off in the process.

Okay, he’s prepared to admit, that most of the hostility had been due to him, but only because of a certain _other_ Alpha that had just recently been unfrosted and dropped on top of him.

Steve Rogers—the shining _beacon_ of all Alphaness—had been a constant looming, disqualifying presence for much of his early life, and even just seeing the man was enough to raise Tony’s hackles. Rogers hadn’t been much better, standing as stiff and approachable as a board, everything but his scent sending off waves of distrust and discomfort, bordering on hostility.

His lack of scent had been off-putting, but Tony had some vague recollection of having learned in school about how the Captain had used suppressants during the war, something about keeping his scent hidden from Hydra for safety reasons… or something. He hadn’t really bothered to pay attention to those lessons much, his dad lectured about Captain America enough as it was.

Either way, the Captain seemed to still be on suppressants for whatever reason, and the complete lack of signals in that area made interacting with him feel like trying to navigate a foreign city without even something as rudimentary as a paper map. The Captain seemed to make his opinion of Tony pretty clear though. So, there was that.

And then of course, they’d managed to work together to save New York and Tony’s attachment instincts had jumped in, almost running away with him as he offered the tower to the Avengers as a place to stay. He hadn’t exactly been sure what he’d expected to happen when he’d asked Rogers. He’d waited until all the others had accepted before he’d asked, unsure if the Captain would even want to speak with him, given how tense he’d been before.

Rogers had still looked slightly wary when he’d approached him, but there was also something so… so completely _lonely _in his eyes that gave Tony an abrupt and unpleasant reminder that the man was completely and totally lacking in a pack because _he’d managed to outlive them all_. In the end, he thinks that it was the potential of forming, or being around a new pack, that was probably the driving factor behind the Captain’s acceptance of his offer.

Of course, then things got complicated.

In order to celebrate both their victory over crazy alien armies and everyone’s decision to come live in the tower, he decides to host an informal gathering of sorts in the penthouse, (…once it had been cleaned out and everyone’s rooms had been set up with the basics.) It’s only about a week after the attack, so things are still a little rugged, but the space is open and big enough to accommodate the various Alphas and Betas as they mingle.

Rogers seems tense even then, although Tony is beginning to think that that’s just how he _is _in general, so he doesn’t pay it much mind besides doing his best to keep a friendly distance. He’s still not quite sure what Rogers is really _like _as an Alpha, and nobody needs a repeat of the Helicarrier scene while they’re trying to eat small cheeses.

As the party continues, Rogers seems to relax a little, which is a good sign at least, and they soon find themselves lounging on a ring of couches, glasses in hand and little plates of food scattered around as they chat.

It’s Natasha that notices it first.

“Steve?” she asks, and as one, they all turn to see why she sounds so concerned.

Rogers is sitting facing her, his whole body a tense line as a shudder runs through his frame and Tony’s brow furls as he notes the beads of sweat beginning to form along his hairline.

“Steve?” Natasha asks again, leaning forward. “What’s wrong?”

Rogers flicks his eyes to her and one of his hands climbs up from his knee to clench around his stomach while the other digs into the cushion beside his leg. “Something’s…” He sucks in a breath and shivers, his eyes darting around wildly. “Something’s wrong,” he rasps out, hunching over so far that he slips off the couch and lands awkwardly on his knees in front of them and Tony finds himself moving forward, along with the rest as the Captain falls forward. He’s not really sure what he expects to _do _exactly, but something is obviously _not right_.

None of them manage to reach him though. The instant they start moving, Rogers’ head snaps up and he scrambles backwards, literally _vaulting over the back of the couch _in his desperation to get away from them.

Tony freezes along with the rest of them as they watch the Captain scurry away, the sound of his rapid breathing filling the room as he scuttles into the closest corner and hunkers down, his arms over his head and his knees pulled into his chest.

Judging from the faces around him, no one else knows what’s going on either, so Tony decides to address the most likely source of figuring out _what _has gotten into their Captain as quickly as possible. “JARVIS, what’s happening?” he asks, never taking his eyes off of the cowering figure in the corner.

“It appears sir,” JARVIS says after a moment. “That the Captain seems to be experiencing an abrupt onset of a heat.”

Tony’s brain stalls. He opens his mouth. He closes it.

“_What?_” Clint asks for him, shock radiating through the group.

In that moment Tony and the rest of them are hit with a _wave _of Honey and Apples and _that is definitely _not _an Alpha scent. _He flinches back and swallows as his Alpha instincts sit up and his brain sputters at the most recent revelation. _Steve Rogers is an Omega???? _Is the general gist of his thought process.

While he’s busy recovering from the shock of finding out that one of the most prominent Alphas in recent history is apparently an _Omega_ (as well as clamp down on any inconvenient Alpha urges at an unexpected Omega in heat), Natasha darts forward, her face set in determination.

“The rest of you, get out of here,” she orders sharply as she crouches down a short distance away from the hunched Captain. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Nat, are you sure—” Clint starts, making as if to move towards her.

“He’s an Omega from the forties,” she says sharply, looking back at them. “Going into an unexpected heat, in the middle of a room full of Alphas.”

Tony’s stomach drops at the implications, and beside him, Bruce pales dramatically as, all of the sudden, Rogers’ reaction makes _way _too much sense. Clint is the first to snap out of it, falling into line immediately and herding Tony and the rest of them out of the room while asking JARVIS for directions to some other lounge for them to stay in for the mean time.

In the end, they congregate in an empty room a few floors down that had been minimally furnished as some sort of spare room, the sparse furniture doing little for the already subdued atmosphere.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Tony finally breaks. “Okay,” he says, waving a hand from his seat on the couch. “Am I the only one who’s completely blown out of the water here or what?”

Clint blows out a gust of air and slouches down in the chair opposite to him. “All I can say is it wasn’t in the files I got on him,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “And my clearance is as high as Nat’s, so I doubt she knew either.”

“Do you think he’s okay?” Bruce speaks up, looking slightly uncomfortable from his spot on the opposite end of the couch. “Most Omega’s have pre-heat symptoms and the like, so they aren’t usually caught off guard like that.”

Tony swallows and he thinks back to the disconcerting image the Captain had made, crouched defensively and panting in terror in the corner of the room. His hands twitch and he wishes that he’d been a little more clear-headed in remembering to bring his drink down with him. “He was on suppressants, right?” he says, wiping his hands on his pants. “Maybe they wore off unexpectedly and triggered a heat.”

Bruce hums at that and rubs a hand over his mouth. “It’s possible,” he concedes. “It’s just amazing that nobody knew until now.”

“Yeah.” Tony barks out a dry laugh. “I mean, I’m pretty sure all the histories framed him as the All-American Alpha who liked to punch Nazi’s in the face for fun.”

“How on earth did he even join the army?” Clint cuts in, disbelief colouring his voice. “I thought they didn’t accept Omegas into combat back then.”

Tony purses his lips and shrugs. “Who knows,” he says before continuing ruefully. “My dad never mentioned any of this at all. He seemed pretty convinced of the guy’s Alpha qualities.”

Clint sighs and slouches even further in his chair. “I wonder if Fury knows,” he muses quietly. “Someone must have given him the suppressants, right?”

Bruce takes off his glasses and begins to rub them clean with the edge of his shirt. “We’ll have to talk to Steve about that, after his heat,” he says quietly.

And isn’t _that _a sentence that Tony never expected to hear.

oOo

Rogers’ heat lasts a week, and he spends the whole of it in the room that had been set aside for him in the tower. Natasha takes it upon herself to check up on him, making sure that he kept hydrated and such, while remaining tight-lipped about the whole thing.

“It’s his first heat in a while.” Is all she says. “It’s hitting a bit hard.”

Rogers reappears at breakfast one morning, dressed in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants and somehow managing to look small and vulnerable despite his size.

And. Great. Now Tony is remembering that Steve used to be like, five feet tall or something, and his brain is helpfully theorizing on what life would have been like for an Omega of that size in the forties. He reaches stiffly for his coffee and scalds his tongue as he tries to cut off _that _particular train of thought and watches as Rogers drifts forward a little uncertainly, quietly edging around the rest of them while he pieces together some sort of breakfast, his Apple-Honey Omega-sweet scent less of a punch in the face than it had been, now that his heat was past.

And, okaaay, this is getting awkward. _What are you even supposed to say for something like this?_ Tony wonders desperately as he takes another sip of his coffee. _How long have you been an Omega? Did you know? You knew right?_

Thankfully, Bruce steps in to break the silence, even managing to relax Steve’s shoulders a bit as he asks after his health. “I’m okay,” he answers quietly, fiddling with a bit of toast and keeping his eyes fixed on the counter in front of him, completely opposite to the sure-faced Alpha that Tony had grown up to expect. “I’m sure…” He swallows and his eyes flick up for a second. “I’m sure, um, that you guys have some questions…”

“You can tell us when you’re ready,” Bruce says gently. “There’s no rush.”

The other Avengers agree quickly and Tony nods along, because, of course it’s up to the Captain what he decides to share… but he has to admit that part of him wants to break down and start asking questions now, like _how on _earth _have you managed to keep this hidden for so long??_

He swallows the question down and drinks his coffee. _There’s no rush, _he reminds himself. _I’m sure he’ll tell us eventually. It’s not like this is the craziest thing to come out of history _ever _or anything_.

It takes three agonising days before Rogers sits them all down, Fury too because apparently even _he _hadn’t known, and prepares himself to give them some sort of explanation for what had just happened.

By now he’s a little more secure in himself, a little more comfortable with his Omega scent. (But really, that just means that he looks permanently defensive rather than uncertain like he had at breakfast.) He seriously looks prepared to fight them all, should they suddenly start dragging on his status or something.

Which, okay. Is pretty fair. Considering where he’s from and all, but still. 

Rogers takes a breath as they settle into the couches of the living room and sets his shoulders, raising his chin and clasping his hands tightly in his lap. “Okay,” he says stiffly, looking like he’d much rather be _anywhere _else than here right now. “So… so I’m guessing no one knew that I was an… an Omega until now?” His eyes dart up and seem to linger on Tony longer than usual as the Avengers offer various negative responses. He blows out a breath and runs a hand through his hair, his scent carrying the slightest bitter tint of stress over to the rest of them.

“What _I_ want to know,” Fury says evenly, crossing his arms as Rogers looks up at him. “Is why on _earth _that wasn’t on your files somewhere, and _how_ you manage to keep it hidden for so long.”

_Th_ank _you, _Tony thinks, glad that he’s not the only one completely lost in that area.

Rogers’ lips press together, and he swallows tightly, shifting a little from his seat across from them. “That has to do with…” He sighs. “It’s a long story,” he says, slouching a little.

Fury raises an eyebrow and gestures for the Captain to get started.

Rogers breathes in again and rubs his hands on his pants as he starts talking. “You all know how I tried to enlist several times into the army,” he starts, looking up at them as they all nod along. “I was so small and sick that they wouldn’t even take me for any of the Omega roles, and of course,” he shrugs, “there was no way an Omega would be taken as a _soldier_…” His face twists for a second and his teeth clench before he shakes his head and gets back to his story. 

“The story around Doctor Erskine is true,” he says, his fingers knotting and twisting together in his lap. “He approached me with the chance of getting into the army via his experimental program but…” He glances to the side. “I was the only Omega in the program.” His fingers lock together almost painfully. “When I was chosen to test the serum, the military side of the program wasn’t really impressed. They didn’t want an _Omega_.” The skin of his fingers is white with how tight he’s holding them and Tony wonders if it hurts or if the Captain is too distracted to feel it right now.

Rogers gives a one-shouldered shrug and his mouth twitches into a sardonic smile. “Most of them… most of ‘em thought that the serum would turn me into an Alpha,” he says, his fingers coming loose and rubbing against his pants again. “It made sense, the serum was supposed to achieve the peak of humanity, so _of course _that’d mean Alpha, right?”

Tony swallows uneasily and Rogers’ lips press together. “Doctor Erskine didn’t think it would though,” he says quietly. “He said that if it didn’t, that’d probably say a lot about what we saw as superior and inferior.” His hands still and his eyes grow distant as he thinks.

After a moment his eyes refocus, and he gives his head a little shake. “’Course, the military was peeved when I didn’t turn out to be an Alpha by the end of it, ‘coz that meant I was basically useless to them, and Doctor Erskine was dead so they couldn’t make more, _better _super soldiers…” He swallows and his hands clasp together tightly again.

“I managed to avoid getting turned into a lab rat by the skin of my teeth,” he says stiffly, staring ahead without quite looking at any of them. “But in exchanged I got turned into a dancing monkey, and the army and the government did their best to bury my Omega status.”

His face twists and he looks away. “They couldn’t have it getting out that _Captain America_, the symbol of hope in the free world, was an Omega, so any documentation of my status was hidden or destroyed and I wasn’t allowed to go out in public before a suppressant was developed to hide my scent.” His eyes grow distant again as he stares off to the side. “I don’t know what they said to my friends and family,” he admits quietly. “But it must of been significant, since nobody said anything, even after I died.”

Natasha and Clint share a look and Tony crosses his legs uncomfortably. Everyone _knows _that Omega rights had been pretty limited before, but it still… it still isn’t great to hear about the blatant statusism that had been in place, not even a hundred years ago.

Rogers seems to shake off his melancholy after a second, taking in a breath and turning back to them. “I probably would’ve stayed with the USO, dancing in tights for bonds for the rest of the war except…” He swallows and his hands are clasped tighter than ever in his lap. “Except… um.” He swallows again. “Except that, Bucky got captured.”

A complicated series of emotions flash through Rogers eyes and he looks down. “Bucky was, in the beginning he was a little shocked by the serum and…” His mouth twitches upwards a little. “He wasn’t really impressed by how the military was handling my status. We’d always intended to reveal it after the war was over.”

Tony’s stomach drops into his toes as he gets to remember that not only is Barnes dead, he’s _dead _dead, fell off a train and died in front of Rogers kind of dead. 

The atmosphere in the room is decidedly somber, the scents in the room tinged with distress and sadness as Rogers’ fingers curl up in his lap. “Very _very _few people knew I was an Omega,” he says quietly, his eyes flickering up to meet Tony’s for a second before looking back down. “The Commandos didn’t even know so…” He swallows. “So I couldn’t really be an Omega except around Bucky and… and it was… when he died it was…”

He presses his lips together and shakes his head, his hands shaking slightly in his lap. He swallows and opens and closes his mouth a few times, his shoulders stiff and tense in an effort to keep himself under control. He breathes in through his nose and looks over to Fury. “When I woke up here…” He says slowly. “I wasn’t sure if anyone knew of my status… and then I wasn’t sure how well that would go over given…” He shrugs. “Given how the military had reacted in the past.”

He looks down at his lap and his cheeks heat a little. “I’d taken my suppressants right before my last mission,” he explains, fiddling with his thumbs. “So they were still in my system when I woke up and…” He bites the inside of his cheek. “And everything was so… so _much, _waking up here that I…” His shoulders hunch slightly. “I kind of… forgot… that I needed them until… until they wore off and then…” His face reddens even further. “I hadn’t had a heat for so long that… it kind of, made up for lost time I guess and, it was on top of me before I really knew what was happening.”

Silence falls after that as everyone tries to digest what they’d just heard. Steve shifts uncomfortably. “So… so what happens now?” he asks, looking over at Fury.

Fury sits with his arms folded; his face deep in thought as he chews over the Captains story. He looks up and catches Steve’s eye. “You wouldn’t happen to know the secret formula to your suppressants, would you?” he drawls.

Something flickers across Rogers’ face, too fast for Tony to read, before it hardens, and he clenches his jaw. “No,” he says stiffly. “But I _thought _that I wouldn’t be expected to hide my status anymore.” His fingers clench. “I was _told _that things were _different _now—”

Fury holds up a hand, cutting off the beginnings of an angry rant. “I’m not suggesting we try to cover up your status indefinitely,” he says placatingly. “But just because Omega rights have moved on, doesn’t mean that everyone has, and revealing your status without a plan would be akin to painting a giant red target on your back for any half-competent villain who cares a little too much about statuses.”

Rogers’ lips press together in an unhappy line but he doesn’t disagree.

“Most Omega’s take suppressants anyways,” Bruce says, speaking up for the first time. “There’s ones that don’t necessarily cover up your scent if you don’t want, just allow you to regulate and control your heats and stuff.”

Steve glances over to him and something flickers in his eyes. “Would they work with my serum?” he asks quietly.

“That’d be something we’d have to take into account,” Fury cuts in, shifting a little on the couch. “And we’ll have to think about how we’ll reveal your status to the public, if you don’t plan on keeping it quiet.”

Steve swallows a little uneasily and his fingers grind together in his lap. “What… what would that do, exactly?” he asks, swallowing again and flickering his eyes to Tony for a second for some reason.

Fury shrugs and crosses his legs. “There’ll be an outcry for sure,” he says. “But we can work with you to find the best way to break it to them, and what to expect, etcetera…” He looks up and catches Rogers’ eye. “If we swing it right, we might even be able to do some good with this,” he says. “I’m sure there’s plenty of Omega’s rights groups that would be _thrilled _to receive an endorsement like this.”

Steve nods slowly and seems to relax slightly. “But… not right away,” he says a little dejectedly.

Fury shakes his head. “Safest bet would be to wait until we get some basic plan and suppressants in place before we go public,” he says and Natasha nods along with him.

Steve’s eyes follow Natasha’s movements and he breathes in slowly, slouching a bit as he nods in agreement. “Okay,” he says softly, before fixing Fury with a look. “But I refuse to be benched or shut up for long,” he says tightly. “I’m _done _burying this thing, don’t make me wait too long.”

Fury nods decisively. “Deal.”

oOo

SHIELD busies itself with ironing out the details about how to break Rogers’ status to the world, (as well as snapping him up into grief counselling because _it’s only been a month for him_ since Bucky had died and the war had ended) and the Avengers do their best to settle into something resembling normal in the tower.

A date for the reveal is settled, and it’s decided that Rogers will give an interview on the 1st of ‘Omega History month’ (watching the Captain’s look of wonderment at the idea of a whole _month _devoted to the historical contributions of Omegas had been a treat to behold.) The interview is at least partially scripted and filmed through a respectable news outlet before being broadcasted, so they can keep it controlled as possible.

Tony watches the highlights later on.

“Omega rights were rather elementary in the 30s and 40s,” a news lady states as she sits across from Rogers in a small room.

Rogers nods, looking calm and collected, nothing like the nervous Omega he’d been when he’d first revealed to them his status. “It was,” he agrees before going on to explain some of the struggles Omega’s had faced in his time.

The news lady nods along with him, before starting to go into the Omega rights movement of the 60s. “I hope you don’t mind me mentioning how Captain America was often quoted as being very sympathetic towards Omega rights,” she says, crossing her leg under her notepad. “There are several anecdotes of your dealings with Omegas that have been used throughout the years as examples of how Alphas ought to behave towards Omegas.”

Rogers’ mouth quirks up and he dips his head. “’What would Cap do?’” he quotes looking vaguely amused.

“Exactly.” The hostess smiles at him. “However, there have been some critics that have claimed that it is the _Omega’s _voice that is most important when deciding how an Alpha should act, and that looking towards Alpha figures only further buries the Omega. I’m curious what your opinion is for that.”

Rogers shifts in his chair and looks thoughtful. “That is a very good point,” he says. “And while I’m glad my name was able to be used for good, I think it’s very important that Alphas take their cues for what is appropriate from Omegas themselves. An Alpha’s voice should never hold more weight on an issue that they have never experienced.”

He looks down at his hands for a second before looking back up again. “However,” he says carefully. “I believe I have a… unique perspective in this case.” The news lady is, of course, aware of what the Captain will be revealing in her interview, thanks to her contract, but she continues to project an air of polite interest as he prepares himself to deliver his story. “People have said that I’m a good example of how an Alpha ought to act,” he starts off slowly. “But that isn’t exactly true.”

“What do you mean?” the hostess prompts.

Rogers offers her a small smile. “Because there’s one major problem,” he admits. “I’m not an Alpha.”

Tony can almost imagine the waves of shock echoing across the American nation right about now.

“I was born an Omega,” Rogers continues. “And I still am. But because of Omega restrictions in the 40s, I wasn’t allowed to be Captain America unless my original status was kept hidden.”

The interview then moves on to discuss some of the oppression he had faced before shifting to focus on the oppression and stereotypes that Omegas continue to face in the current day. “We can’t pretend that statusism is a thing of the past,” Rogers says, leaning forward. “I’m sure, as we will probably see from some people’s reaction to my true status, Omegas are still viewed as ‘lesser than’, if only subconsciously.”

“What would you say to anyone upset by your true status?” asks the hostess.

Rogers leans back and shrugs his shoulder. “I’d ask them why they think being an Omega is worse than being an Alpha, and I’d ask them what is it that makes them think that an Omega would not have been able to do all the things that I did during the war.”

“Are you worried that people aren’t going to believe your true status?”

Rogers smiles slightly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case,” he says. “But I’m honestly surprised that this didn’t come out before hand. I would’ve thought that it would’ve been unburied while I was in the ice.” He looks to the side, his eyes slightly pensive. “I don’t think I should have to _prove _my Omeganess to anyone,” he says after a moment. “I’ve spent enough of my life hiding it, and I won’t do it anymore.” He looks back towards the hostess. “To anyone who doesn’t believe that I’m an Omega, I’d ask them why exactly they don’t _want _me to be one.”

The news lady tilts her head and shifts forward a little. “What do you mean?” she asks curiously.

Rogers looks down at his hands for a second. “Captain America wasn’t only used to promote Omega rights,” he says, looking up. “He was also a symbol of peak Alpha ability and…” his mouth quirks. “I imagine some people will be upset that the Alpha they idolized is actually an Omega.”

He shrugs an looks down at his hands again. “I’m also sure some people will think that perhaps I’m simply _pretending _to be an Omega for… whatever reason but…” He shrugs again and flashes the hostess a smile. “Besides releasing a doctor’s report, I’m not prepared to offer any more… intimate proof.”

The hostess smiles back. “Of course,” she says easily. “And we have that report on our website for our viewers if they are interested,” she says to the camera before she turns back to thank the Captain and wraps up the interview.

_Well, at least that went well, _Tony thinks, feeling slightly relieved. _Although I’m sure the public and media reaction will still be rather volcanic. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like that first chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finds out more about why Steve is cautious around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be advised, this chapter will discuss Non-con themes pretty heavily.

Rogers’ reveal makes front page news and blows up social media for a while, but he makes very few additional statements besides the ones he’s already made. As expected, the reveal breeds a whole subcategory of outraged statusists that take to the internet to rant about ‘the Omega agenda’ and such, but it also garners a lot of support.

“This is just amazing,” an Omega rights activist says with tears in his eyes while being interviewed on TV. “Captain America is such an important role model, and his history of being respected as an Alpha proves that Omegas and Alphas should be treated the same.”

Rogers does his best to offer support to various Omega rights groups while also trying to keep his involvement as private as possible. “I’m not doing this for the press,” is all he says when asked.

As with all things, the internet can only focus on so many things at once, and eventually, the immediate media frenzy begins to die down. Tony is pretty sure that this reveal is going to go down in history (how could it _not_), but life begins to slowly fall back into something close to normal.

Which means that Rogers is tense around him again.

It’s actually rather irritating because no matter what he tries, the Captain always seems to be slightly on edge around him. Some days, it’ll hardly be noticeable, and he’ll forget about it for a while, but other days, he _swears _the Captain actually _leaves the room_ when he comes in.

One time, in the week or so before he’d learned about the Captain’s status, he’d invited him down to his lab to redesign his suit (and hopefully maybe grow closer or something). Rogers’ had come down, but he’d looked practically nauseous upon arrival and had only started to relax some 15 minutes after JARVIS had scanned him for his measurements.

And the problem is, Tony doesn’t know why. Oh, he knows they’d clashed on the Helicarrier, but he’d kind of thought that they were past that, and he’d been doing his best to avoid offending the man. He even _swore_ less for heaven’s sake! But no. No matter what he did, the Captain always seemed to hold a measure of dislike towards him and it was driving him _insane_.

_Why did he even agree to come move here if he hates it so much?_ Tony scowls as he pours another shot of whiskey into his glass from his place in the common room bar. He probably shouldn’t be drinking this early in the morning, but hey, he hadn’t slept well last night, and he was _grumpy _okay?

The elevator doors to the common room ding open and lo and behold, who should come in but the focus of Tony’s current ire, the Captain himself.

Tony’s hand tightens on his glass as something in the Captain’s stance seems to stiffen as he catches sight of him, before he starts making his way towards the common room fridge. Silence sits over the room like a blanket while Rogers grabs a carton of juice from the fridge and a glass from a cupboard. He drinks the juice all in one go before setting the glass in the sink with a definite clink and turning back towards the elevator doors.

He probably wouldn’t have done it if he’d gotten a full night’s sleep. He probably wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t already have a few glasses of whiskey already circulating in his system, but the sight of Rogers’ tense shoulders as he turns to leave the room seems to push back whatever self-control Tony had been holding on to.

He takes a swig from his glass and sets it down with a clack of glass on marble. “So, what is it?” he asks bitterly and the retreating shoulders pause to turn back and look at him.

“I’m sorry?” Rogers says, his frame no less tense as his eyes scan him.

Tony’s stomach sours and he waves a hand. “What is it?” he asks again. “The reason you hate me. Is it the weapons? It’s usually the weapons.” Silence falls again as Rogers stares at him and Tony takes another drink.

“I don’t… hate you,” Rogers finally answers after a moment.

Tony huffs out a disbelieving laugh, leaning forwards as he does so before looking back up at the Captain. “Really?” he drawls, lazily waving his glass. “’Coz you could’ov fooled me Cap.”

Rogers stares at him again, his throat flexing while the rest of his body remains completely motionless. Tony is beginning to feel vaguely uncomfortable before the Captain’s eyes dart about and he seems to nod to himself. His lips press together as he comes closer and settles himself on a barstool across from him.

His face is austere, and Tony is beginning to realise that he might have accidentally triggered a more serious conversation than he had been prepared for. Rogers clasps his hands in front of him on the counter and stares at them for a second before looking back up at Tony. His eyes skitter away for a moment and his lips press together again.

“I didn’t mean…” He swallows and focuses his gaze somewhere to the left of Tony’s face. “I didn’t mean to make you so uncomfortable,” he says after a moment. “I know I’ve been… different around you but—” He breathes in slowly through his nose and squeezes his clasped hands together. “It’s not really… it’s not really… something…” He clenches his teeth together and looks down at his hands. “It’s nothing you did,” he explains quickly. “You didn’t do anything. It’s not your fault.”

Tony stares at him, the glass in his hand forgotten for the moment. “…Okay?” he says squinting uncertainly. So Rogers was admitting that he’d been weird around him. At least he hadn’t been making that up or something.

Rogers ducks his head and huffs slightly before looking back up at Tony, the skin around his knuckles going white in his grip. “I…” he swallows. “I’ll tell you why,” he says, his face pale and tight. “Because… because I think, maybe… you deserve to know but…” He swallows again and pulls away slightly. “You’re probably not… you probably won’t like what I have to say.”

Rogers’ eyes refuse to meet his and Tony takes an uneasy sip of his drink, wondering exactly what he’d gotten himself into. “JARVIS, make sure we’re not disturbed,” he says over his glass, because he has a feeling that this is going to be a long conversation.

Rogers looks up at his words while JARVIS gives them his confirmation and he stares at him for a second before rolling his shoulders and breathing in slowly. “Okay,” he says, breathing out. “Okay so…” his fingers twitch. “I… haven’t really… told anyone about this, besides SHIELD’s counsellor so…” He grimaces out something that is probably supposed to be a smile. “Just bare with me and um… it’d probably be easiest if you didn’t interrupt too much.”

Tony nods and mentally sizes up the amount of alcohol still left in his glass. Definitely not enough for the amount of emotion this conversation is bound to touch on.

Rogers watches him almost warily before breathing in and squaring his shoulders. “Like I said,” he starts off in a rush. “I know I’ve been, ah um… tense around you.” Tony almost rolls his eyes at that, but manages to restrain himself. “But that wasn’t anything that you did,” Rogers continues. “It has to do with something that, uh, happened to me, in the war.”

Rogers’ gaze isn’t exactly focused on him as he speaks, and his face is almost blank as he continues. “You know… you know how my Omega status was kept hidden,” he says woodenly. “There were only a few people who knew my status.” His eyes flicker to Tony’s while the rest of his body remains motionless. “Colonel Philips and Peggy because they were on the SSR team, Bucky of course and…” he swallows. “And Howard Stark.”

Tony’s stomach drops and he hastily takes a sip of his drink. Whatever this is, he has a feeling it’s going to tie back to his dad, and that probably isn’t a good thing.

Rogers’ hands tighten and he continues to talk into the middle-distance. “I met Howard when I first got the serum,” he says quietly. “But I didn’t really think much of him until I met him again later, when I was trying to rescue Bucky.” His eyes meet Tony’s for a second before glancing away again. “Howard flew the plane for me and Peggy,” he explains although Tony already knew that well enough, his dad had mentioned it once or twice.

Silence falls as Rogers chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment and fiddles with his fingers. His eyes dart to Tony’s and flick down almost as quickly. “Umm, on the plane, Howard was… sort of…uh, cheeky I guess, would be a word for it.” Rogers’ cheeks flush and Tony mentally translates the word into ‘flirtatious’ in the privacy of his own mind.

Rogers’ shifts uneasily in his chair and re-clasps his hands. “I didn’t think much of it though,” he says almost dully, his eyes suddenly flat. “I thought that was just kind of… his personality, and besides, I knew I was gonna have to deal with him for a while.”

Tony’s hands feel cold, and he can’t quite tear his eyes away from the Captain in front of him. This was not what he’d been expecting when he’d first decided to confront him and a part of him suddenly really _really _doesn’t want to know what the Captain has to say. 

Rogers takes in a breath and looks off to the side. “Anyways, umm.” He licks his lips and his shoulders grow a little more tense. “Uh, later, I went to see Howard because I wanted him to redesign the Captain America suit into something more battleworthy, and he—” Rogers cuts off and his chin bobs as he swallows and squirms a little in his seat. “He, uh, was still, rather suggestive.” Rogers twitches, his scent sharp and sour with stress. “To… to the point where I was, hmm, uncomfortable and glad for the chance to leave.”

His eyes flicker to his for a second and Tony is abruptly reminded that he needs to breathe. Rogers breathes in as well, albeit more shakily and glances down at his hands. “So.” His shoulders hunch. “So, um. When I tried to leave…” He swallows tightly. “Howard asked me directly to,” he looks up at Tony looking slightly pained, “…to, you know…” A look of relief flashes in his eyes at Tony’s nod and he looks back down.

For his part, Tony’s hand moves jerkily to his mouth as he mechanically takes a sip of his drink. This was _not _what he was expecting to do when he got up this morning. This was _not _what he wanted to be doing. At _all_.

Rogers continues anyways and it just gets worse. “I was, of course, shocked,” he says, fixing his gaze on his hands as he runs a thumb over his knuckles. “I’d been… refusing politely I guess, and I didn’t think he would—” His lips press together and his head twitches to the side. “…anyway, um. He must of…” His shoulders hunch further and Tony’s hand clenches around his glass in response. “He must of… planned it… in advance.” The words drag out of Rogers like pulling teeth and he scowls at his hands. “Because… he had all his arguments lined up already.”

He looks up at Tony and unclasps his hands to rub at his mouth before running them along his pantlegs. “He uh,” he looks to the side and his fingers clench. “He explained to me, how, um, what exactly would happen to me if my Omega status got leaked to the public.” He tenses and catches Tony’s eye with an absolutely bone-weary look before running a hand through his hair. “Basically… basically, America would riot if they found out that Captain America was an Omega,” he explains tiredly and nausea twists around in Tony’s stomach. “And, I’d be in danger not only from Hydra, but from my fellow soldiers.”

A horrible picture is starting to make itself known to Tony and he desperately _desperately _hopes that it holds no bearings with reality. The likelihood of that falls further and further though, as Rogers continues talking.

“The army wouldn’t let me go though, if my status was revealed,” he continues, his hands dropping down to clasp together in his lap. “They would want to recreate the serum, and since I was the only subject they had…” he shrugs uneasily. “They’d probably shut me up in a lab somewhere until the end of the war.” He looks straight at Tony, his face tight. “And Howard would most likely be the one in charge of it all.”

Tony goes for a drink and the ice in his glass clinks as he empties it. His hand shakes slightly as he sets it down. In front of him, Rogers breathes in uneasily.

“Howard also developed and produced my suppressants,” he says tensely. “If he wanted, he could mess with them, make it so I went into heat in the middle of—” he swallows tightly and looks away. He breathes in again and focuses intently on his clasped fingers. “The—the deal was—” His scent spikes uneasily and he swallows again, never lifting his eyes. “The deal was, that as long as I…” His mouth twists. “…went to him, once every time we went on leave… he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t make my status public.”

Bile rises in Tony’s throat and he stands up abruptly, making Rogers flinch back and look at him apprehensively. Tony ignores him and goes over to his liquor cabinet, pouring himself another drink. He closes his eyes for a second and swallows back the sour taste in his throat.

When he’d asked Rogers why he’d hated him he hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected the answer to be ‘because you remind me of my rapist because my rapist was your father’. He takes a sip of whiskey and lets it wash down his throat, mentally cursing his dad the whole time. After a second he turns back to where Rogers is sitting, taking the bottle with him as he retakes his seat.

Rogers eyes him for a second and Tony knows that his own scent is probably sharp and bitter, but there’s not much he can do about that. After seeming to decide that Tony was stable enough to continue, Rogers looks down and fiddles with his hands. “Howard also explained that it would be pointless to try and report him,” he says quietly. “He wasn’t military, and he was too important to the war effort, it was unlikely that he’d get more than a slap on the wrist if I told… and if I did…” he shrugs and grimaces. “Then Howard would reveal my status and I’d get locked up in a lab with him anyways.” 

His head twitches again, almost like a tick, and he presses his lips together. “It only happened about three times,” he says, as if that somehow makes it better. “Howard was actually gone back to the States for some reason on my last leave.” He gives Tony something close to a smile. “That was probably the best leave of my life,” he says, before his face becomes more serious and he drops his gaze.

The ice in Tony’s glass rattles as he tries not to think about his dad systematically blackmailing Captain America into sleeping with him. He had never even insinuated that he’d done something like that when he’d been alive. He hadn’t even suggested that the Captain was _anything_ but the best Alpha that had ever walked the Earth, acting as though they’d been the best of friends during the war.

He seriously _seriously _doubts that that was the case now.

Rogers breathes in and Tony realises that his hands are trembling slightly in his lap. “I…” His teeth clench. “I hadn’t been… _intending _to tell Bucky about it,” he says. “But…” Rogers eyes grow distant and he bites his lip. “I sort of— after—” He cuts himself off and his knuckles whiten. “I kind of… wasn’t doing so well, after the first time,” he admits tensely in probably the biggest understatement of the year. “And I kind of ended up in Bucky’s room anyways.”

“Bucky was—” Rogers takes in a shaky breath and looks to the side. “He was… was really good about it,” he says finally, the shaking in his hands stronger than before. “I don’t think I could’ve made it if it wasn’t for him.” He swallows, looking down and fiddling with his thumbs. “It must have been hard though,” he says quietly. “He knew why he couldn’t confront Howard but…” A look of pain flickers over his face. “It must have been hard knowing what was happening, and not being able to do anything about it.”

Tony’s stomach lurches and he’s suddenly reminded of how his dad’s face had often closed off disdainfully whenever Rogers’ Second in Command had been mentioned. He’d always assumed that they hadn’t got along for whatever reason. Now, he’s surprised that they hadn’t actually killed each other.

“After…” Rogers swallows. “After Bucky died, we got sent back to London again.” He untangles his hands and rubs them against his pants. “Before, whenever I had to see Howard for mission related things, Bucky would always accompany me.” His eyes unfocus slightly as he stares off into the distance. “I don’t think the Commandos really quite knew why me and Buck were edgy around Howard, but…” His mouth quirks up slightly and his eyes flicker to Tony’s. “They knew _something _was going on, and they seemed to make it their mission to keep me from being alone with him.”

His hands continue to rub restlessly at his legs, and he swallows dryly. “I had to, go in to see Howard about supplies for our next mission,” he says, going back to not looking at Tony. “Dugan stuck with me for that one but…” his hands press into his legs. “Uh, Howard managed to come up with an errand for him that he couldn’t get out of, so he left and—”

His throat flexes and Tony reaches over to grab an empty glass and pours the Captain his own shot of whiskey. He knows that alcohol doesn’t do anything for him, but Rogers accepts it nonetheless, taking a shaky sip before setting it back down on the counter.

“Howard was, was worse than usual,” he rasps out. “And I was—” He reaches over to take another sip of his drink and swallows thickly. “I was so, so _angry_.” His face twists and his fingers twitch. “Bucky had just _died_, not even a _week _ago and he—” His hand tightens on the glass and he breathes in slowly. “He said something about being a good Alpha for me, or something and I…” his eyes catch Tony’s for a second and he traces a pattern on the counter with his free hand. “I, well… there was a handgun on the table near me… and I pulled it on him.”

Tony coughs in surprise and Rogers’ mouth quirks up a little before he drops his eyes and retraces his pattern on the countertop. “I kinda lost it a little,” he says quietly, his eyes clouded. “I basically told him that if he touched me again, I’d shoot him.” He stares in front of him, his hands still. “I think I… I think I really scared him there,” he says slowly before glancing back over at Tony. “I sort of… I didn’t really care anymore if he told anyone about my status. Bucky was dead and I was going to hunt down Hydra, and I didn’t really care if anyone wanted to stop me.”

His finger starts moving again and his eyes slide away from Tony’s to look off to the side. “Howard left me alone after that,” he says dully. “I don’t really know if he would’ve tried something again later. He didn’t really get a chance because I crashed into the Arctic pretty shortly after that.”

Rogers takes another drink and Tony copies him, the alcohol not doing much to help alleviate his mood. Rogers sucks in a breath and sits up slightly, pulling his hand off the counter and running it along his pants again. “When… when I woke up…” His eyes dart to Tony’s and glance away. “SHIELD gave me a file on the Commandos, and other people from the army that I knew.” He chews on the inside of his cheek and taps his fingers against his leg. “That’s when I learned that Howard was dead, and,” he glances at Tony again. “That he’d had a son.”

Tony’s stomach twists uncomfortably and Rogers presses his lips together, holding his glass but not drinking from it as he stares at the counter in front of him. “It… I couldn’t…” He breathes in shakily. “It… it was hard enough thinking about Howard being a father, let alone someone’s Alpha…” He swallows and sets his glass down, running his hand through his hair restlessly. “I didn’t really know how to feel.”

He catches Tony’s eye and bites his lip. “I didn’t… really think, that I would have to meet you yet though,” he says slowly. “I was kind of hoping that I would have some time first…” His eyes grow distant and he looks away. “But then Loki attacked and—” his head twitches. “And I was called in to work with the Avengers.”

Tony thinks back to those first tense hours on the Helicarrier, and suddenly everything makes _a lot _more sense now. His glass is empty again and his hand shakes slightly as he pours himself another.

“It was— it’d only really been about two weeks, for me anyways, since I’d last seen Howard,” Rogers continues as fine tremors run down his shoulders into his hands. “And when you came in—” He swallows tightly, and his hands clench into fists in his lap. “I—I think, I think I could’ve done it, except,” his head twitches again and he clenches his jaw. “Except, um, your scent is… your scent is pretty similar.”

Tony’s stomach drops and a shiver runs through him. Oh.

_Oh_.

He knew that. Of course he did. He’d lived his whole life knowing that the Leather part of his scent matched his dad’s Leather and Polished Wood smell. His dad and plenty of other business people had commented on it enough. But he’d never had to think about how that would be for someone who Howard had actively wronged.

“The Lavender part of your scent helped,” Rogers continues, looking slightly pale. “But it was still—” He swallows and breathes out slowly. “It was still hard for me.”

_Yeah, no kidding_, Tony thinks as he sits frozen, his mind’s eye flashing back to the fight they’d had on the Helicarrier. What had he done? He had put his hand on Rogers’ shoulder, and the man had shoved it off with a snarl and a flash of teeth. _Back _off_! _

His stomach clenches. He feels sick. He’s going to be sick. His hand shakes as he drinks again from his glass.

“I knew you weren’t Howard,” Rogers rushes to reassure. “But I didn’t— I didn’t know if Howard had, maybe told you about my status or, or something, and I didn’t really know that my Omega status wasn’t _dangerous _anymore so…” He looks pained as he glances at Tony.

Tony nods and manages to clear his throat. “He didn’t tell me,” he gets out. “He never mentioned anything like that. I always thought you were an Alpha.” The _I never thought my dad raped you either _goes unsaid_. _

Rogers nods, looking a little relieved, although his hand trembles slightly when he reaches for his glass again. “I’d hoped… I’d hoped that things would get easier for me with time,” he says, staring into his glass before looking hurriedly up at Tony. “And they have,” he reassures. “And SHIELD’s doctor has actually helped a little but…” he looks down. “I guess I’ve still been, jumpy around you.”

Tony stares at him and tries to remind himself that the Captain is probably used to a different approach to sexual assault. The idea that he’d be completely in his rights to never want to see Tony again, that he didn’t _have _to stay on the Avengers team if he didn’t want to because there was a blasted _trigger _sitting right there _ever day, _probably hadn’t occurred to him.

He swallows uneasily and tries to think back to what he’d learned at a Sexual Assault Response seminar that he’d gone to a few years ago. A manager at Stark Industries had been reported and fired for sexual harassment, and as part of their response, all SI managers had gone through Sexual Assault training. Tony had gone along as well, to show solidarity, but since he wasn’t directly involved with the management of SI, he hadn’t thought that he’d actually have to _use _what he’d learned.

Obviously, he’d thought wrong.

The facilitator had gone through what consent and sexual assault was, before moving on to common responses in survivors. _“Sensory details often trigger flashbacks, and the survivor may feel like they are reliving the traumatic experience,”_ she’d said. “_Because we are a scent-based society, scents can often be triggering, and many businesses adopt a scent-free workspace as a result. If an employee comes to you with scent concerns, it is a good idea to consider altering or neutralizing your scent, if that is possible for you.”_

After that, SI had adopted scent neutralizing soaps and air-filtration systems, but Tony had never thought about doing so in his own home before. Honestly, the fact that the Captain had come to live with him at _all _was amazing.

“I know it’s not your fault what Howard did,” Rogers is saying. “And I know it’s not fair to treat you differently because of it, and I’ve been trying not to, it’s just…” He shrugs and drops his eyes, looking slightly embarrassed.

“It’s not your fault either,” Tony gets out, sitting up straighter and racking his brain for how the seminar facilitator had suggested responding to this sort of thing. “The only person to blame is Howard,” he says intently waving his hand, and Rogers meets his eye. “Whatever you feel about it now is normal, and completely fair.”

Rogers’ cheeks colour slightly, and his eyes drop, but he nods his head. “Thank you, Tony,” he says softly. “I know… this kind of thing can’t be easy to hear.”

Tony blows out a breath and slumps against the counter slightly. “It… isn’t,” he says slowly. “But… I’m glad you told me,” he says, looking down as he swirls his drink in his hand. “Is… is there anything I can do, to… to make it… easier?” he asks, because regardless of what he might think advisable, the Captain seems set on staying here in the tower, and the least he could do is help make it bearable.

“Oh,” Rogers’ eyes widen for a second and he ducks his chin. “Oh, I don’t know, you don’t— you shouldn’t have to— because of Howard…” he trails off, looking conflicted.

“I don’t mind,” Tony sits up, the alcohol in his system protesting slightly. “I really don’t,” he insists, his brain frantically latching on to the chance to _do _something about this, to try and somehow make up for what his father had done almost 70 years ago. He knows on some level that this isn’t his fault and that he has nothing to be guilty for… but that doesn’t do much for second-hand guilt.

“You said my scent bothers you right?” he continues, his mind flying. “I could wear neutralizers, or… or bring out the Lavender, or something and,” he waves a hand, “I can always back off, or leave a room or something, if you’re having a bad day, or… or whatever you need.”

Rogers stares at him for a second before his eyes flick off to the side and he swallows as he thinks. His eyes dart back and he fiddles a little with his glass. “I…” His throat flexes. “Maybe… maybe dulling your scent would help,” he admits, dropping his eyes to his glass. He sets it down and looks up determinedly. “I _do _like you though, Tony,” he says emphatically. “You’re a good person, and I was glad to have met you.”

Tony laughs slightly and shakes his head. “You certainly are something Cap,” he says, draining his glass.

Rogers leaves his glass be and stands up a little uncertainly, wiping his hands on his pants as he does so. “Ah,” his mouth twists and he clenches his jaw. “I’d… appreciate it if, if you didn’t tell anyone else about this,” he says, his eyes focusing somewhere around Tony’s shoulder.

Tony’s eyes widen and he leans forward. “Of course,” he says, trying to add as much sincerity into his words as he can. “Of course, yes.”

Rogers relaxes slightly and nods at him before dropping his gaze and rubbing his hands together. Fine tremors run through them and he places them in his pockets. “Okay, well,” his eyes dart around the room, only landing on Tony by coincidence. “Well, I think… I was going to head to… to my room so…” He shifts awkwardly and retreats back to the elevator once Tony nods his understanding.

The elevator doors close and Tony slumps forward against the counter. His fingers dig into the lip of the countertop and he grinds his teeth, cursing Howard.

Who knew his dad was even more of a bastard than he’d thought? The man had had the _gall _to walk around and continue to talk about Steve Rogers like they were friends, like he hadn’t manipulated and abused him for _years_, like he wasn’t one of the _worse _kinds of Alphas there was. Like he hadn’t—

Tony swallows bitterly and reaches for Rogers’ neglected glass, draining it in one go.

“Sir?” JARVIS cuts in. “Shall I call Miss Potts?”

Tony lets out a bitter laugh and the world sways slightly as he tries to get off his stool. He was drinking too much, he knew it and his AI knew it and if he wasn’t careful, today could go _very _badly. Although, he isn’t sure what could be much worse than finding out your dad was a rapist so…

He stumbles slightly as he makes his way to the elevator and he waves his hand dismissively. “Sure, J,” he slurs. “Whatever.”

He’s been through this enough times that he knows when he’s nearing dangerous territory, and he’s self-aware enough still to manage to drag himself to his room and curl up in one of his easy chairs by the window and wait for Pepper. She probably won’t be impressed by the state he’s in, but at least he’s not actively trying to make it worse.

The lights are dim when she comes in, faint signs of stress lining her face and scent, and she leaves them dim as she comes to crouch in front of his chair. “Tony,” she says, her eyes scanning him. “What happened?”

Tony shakes his head and stares at the tops of his toes, his knees drawn into his chest. “Learned som’ bad news,” he says shortly. “But ’s confidential.”

Pepper’s eyes dart back and forth slightly as she looks at him and she reaches forward to grasp one of his hands. “What do you need?” she asks simply.

Tony closes his eyes and leans his head against his knees, squeezing Pepper’s hand gently. “I…” He swallows and licks his lips. “I need you to find’a charity for SI to donate to. Anonymously. Somethin’ that focuses on helping sexual assault survivors. Maybe more tha’ one. Ones for Omegas, Alphas, Betas, all of the above…”

Concern flickers over Peppers face but she nods slowly. This wouldn’t be the first time that Tony had used charities as a coping mechanism. Several veteran and prosthetic programs had suddenly found themselves fully funded after Afghanistan. “Are you looking for a one-time donation or a long-term one?” she asks, getting down to business and pulling out her phone.

“Continual. For’ver,” he says, keeping his eyes closed and letting himself pretend for a little bit that this will somehow make up for what had happened. 

“Okay,” Pepper says softly, her free hand squeezing his. 

oOo

It was impossible not to think about it. Rogers’ story had jumped like a cat from a bag and then lodged itself elephant-like in Tony’s brain and it was hard to look at Rogers without remembering what had happened to him, what had been done to him.

Rogers probably felt similarly and for the next several days he and Tony spend their time carefully walking around each other on eggshells. The other Avengers probably notice _something _is up with them, but there’s not much chance of them guessing _what. _

It’s stressful at times, living in a tower full of spies, but at least this time, Tony is pretty sure Natasha won’t be able to guess why he comes into their next meeting with his scent mostly neutralized, a lavender scented product bringing that portion of his scent to the foreground.

Most of the Avengers’ twitch or subconsciously sniff the air in surprise as he enters, before moving on, since one’s own scent was one’s own business and all, but Tony can feel Rogers’ eyes follow him as he takes his seat, and when he looks up, the Captain gives him the tiniest shadow of a nod.

Tony relaxes slightly and he notices Rogers’ shoulders loosen as well as they get ready for the meeting to start. In his pocket, his phone vibrates, and he pulls it out to find a detailed email from Pepper outlining the charities that she had found and the work they do. Something in his chest eases at that and he puts his phone away.

He knows that what Howard did isn’t his fault. He knows it isn’t really his responsibility… but, in a way it kind of is. Even if it hadn’t been _his _dad that had hurt Rogers, even if he _didn’t _have a similar scent… as an Alpha and as a socially responsible person, he has a part to play in holding himself and others accountable.

Rogers was right when he’d said that Omega oppression wasn’t just a thing of the past, and his story probably wasn’t the only one of its kind. And things weren’t going to change unless people _did _something.

And if Tony could be a part of that, even just a little bit… then he would do it to the _best _of his abilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was important to me because I think it mirrors things that still happen today.
> 
> Here is a link I used for Tony's Sexual Assault seminar. It has a lot of useful information (all that stats are Canadian).
> 
> Besides that, I don't see very many Omega!Steve stories, so I was curious of how that would be like for him. It probably would have been hard.  
What do you think?

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr:[16woodsequ](https://16woodsequ.tumblr.com/)


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